Fevered
by BBCGirl72
Summary: In which Merlin has a fever and Arthur is very cute. Merthur fluffiness. Slight Morgwen if you squint in the dark. Chapter 12 is up! Reviews are greatly appreciated! :) Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin or any of it's characters, sadly.
1. Chapter 1

Merlin gripped the blankets around him.

He was cold. Really cold.

His whole body was shuddering even though he was buried under about eleven blankets. He was sweating like crazy, his dark hair pasted to his forehead.

Fever was a strange thing.

Merlin forced himself to open his eyes. He looked blearily around the room. The young warlock was in a place that was not so unfamiliar yet very unfamiliar. Merlin was in the prince's chambers. He was lying on Arthur's plush bed.

_Well, this is quite a change,_ Merlin thought.

He allowed his eyes to drift closed.

After God knows how long, warmth spread through the servant's right hand.

Merlin's eyes fluttered open and turned his head to the right.

Pain, like someone was driving a sword into his skull, shot through Merlin's head. He grinded his teeth together. Damned headaches reappeared whenever he moved.

But this time, moving had been worth it. Arthur sat by Merlin's side on a three-legged stool, Merlin's cold, pale hand folded in the prince's warm, tanned ones.

Merlin tried for a smile but ended up wincing.

_Note to self, don't try to smile at Arthur._

_Self to note,_ shut up.

Merlin studied the prince, enjoying the warmth of Arthur, the heat crawling from his hand in Arthur's throughout his entire being.

Arthur was wearing a loose blue tunic, brown trousers, and worn brown boots. His blonde hair was rumpled and his blue eyes were shiny with – tears? No, no way the prince cared about his servant that much.

Not that Merlin cared about the pratty prince, either.

_You are an extraordinarily terrible liar, even when you're lying to yourself,_ Merlin thought.

Arthur reached out a tan hand; the other firmly locked on Merlin's pale hand, and brushed Merlin's dark curls off of his forehead.

_Maybe he _does _care about me… _Merlin dared to think.

Arthur's hand stopped stroking the young warlock's hair and gingerly felt Merlin's forehead.

Arthur's face fell and his hand began stroking Merlin's damp hair again.

Merlin's eyelids grew heavy, so he let them close.

The young warlock thought he heard Arthur humming a song to him, which was quickly quieted by some 'shhing' from a corner of the room that Merlin couldn't see, that sent shock waves of pain through his delicate mind.

Merlin whimpered and gripped Arthur's hand. The humming had given him a headache, yes, but it made him feel safe.

Arthur picked up his humming again, softer this time. It was barely audible. A strange sense of warmth spread through the dark-haired warlock, not just from Arthur's warm hand.

After a few minutes, Merlin felt Arthur's hand cease its stroking and his hand begin to disentangle from Merlin's tight grip. Lips pressed against his burning forehead.

Merlin whimpered, a sound like a kicked puppy. Merlin heard scuffling and the soft _thud_ that signaled that Arthur had taken his seat again. His had taken the warlock's again and Merlin relaxed.

Arthur's hand resumed its stroking of the dark locks, and Merlin allowed himself to float on the sea of gray, safe in the knowledge that Arthur was there.

_**A/N: Well? Should I continue, because I have more.**_


	2. Chapter 2

Gwen and Morgana stood crying quietly in the corner of the room, enveloped in a hug.

Arthur sat by the plush bed that was the center of the room.

Lying in the bed, covered in mounds of thick blankets, was a terminally sick Merlin, his body pale, sweaty, and shuddering.

The girls and the blonde prince knew that Gaius was working on an antidote, but it was controversial whether or not it would be done before the young servant…passed on.

The thought made both Gwen and Morgana choke up.

Arthur leaned forward slightly toward his shivering manservant, one hand clamped around Merlin's, the other stroking back Merlin's dark, damp curls.

When Arthur had heard the news of Merlin's sickness, he had immediately rushed to the boy's side. Gwen and Morgana had recognized the protectiveness and love that had blazed like fire in the young prince's clear blue eyes.

The ward and her maidservant both knew that the prince loved his servant.

They'd actually known for quite a while now, but Merlin's fever had only lit the fuse of the bomb that was sure to someday go off.

Arthur, back in the here and now, began humming a song, a lullaby both the ward and the prince had been sung as children. It softened Morgana's heart.

Gwen hissed, "Shh!", sure that the song would cause Merlin more unnecessary pain.

Arthur quit, and Merlin whimpered softly. Morgana could hear that Arthur had picked up his humming under his breath. Merlin stopped whimpering.

Arthur now glanced over at his sister and her servant, his hand still stroking his servant's hair.

The dark-haired girls immediately tried to make themselves look presentable. They brushed off their dresses and wiped at the tears streaming from their eyes. No reason to get Arthur worked up about them.

Arthur ignored that, though, and pressed his lips to Merlin's forehead. He was the future king of Camelot, and these were people he cared very dearly for.

The prince stood, ceased the stroking of his servant's dark curls, and began to pull his hand from Merlin's so that he could comfort the girls when Merlin made the most horrible noise, like a kicked puppy.

The sound brought a fresh wave of tears to the girls' faces.

Arthur's attention instantly snapped back to his sick manservant. He sat back down on the wooden three-legged stool and gripped Merlin's fingers, his other hand taking up its soothing stroking again.

The young boy seemed to relax more after Arthur sat down again, though he murmured a few strange words in a language that did not sound like English.

Morgana and Gwen, clinging to one another, left the prince's chambers as silently as possible.

It was clear that Arthur needed some alone time with Merlin, even though it broke both girls hearts to go.

_**A/N: I wrote this when I wrote chapter 1. It is meant to tell you who was in the corner that Merlin could not see, and what their reaction to his sickness was. Should I continue? Next chapter would be out of Merlin and Arthur's POV. **_


	3. Chapter 3

It was dark when Merlin opened his eyes again.

The boy glanced around the large room, trying to understand what had awoken him.

Pale white moonlight filtered in through a window, a slight breeze ruffling the red curtains. Merlin shivered as the cold breeze touched a bit of bare skin on his arm. Certainly, that wasn't what had woken him.

For hours, Merlin had floated on the strange sea of gray, only conscious of Arthur's humming and his chilly hand folded in the prince's warm ones.

_Arthur,_ Merlin thought suddenly. Where was the young prince?

Merlin turned his head, though it protested, and his eyes landed on the future king.

Merlin drank in the sight of Arthur.

The future king of Camelot was asleep on the wood stool. He was slouched, slouched in the way that princes were _never _supposed to slouch. His blonde hair was tousled and drool was pooling at the edge of his mouth.

Arthur was snoring quite loudly. Possibly that had been what had woken his manservant.

Merlin's small hand was still enveloped in Arthur's tan hands.

The manservant smiled.

Actually smiled.

It seemed that the fever has lessened enough to allow Merlin that pleasure.

Arthur's snoring paused for a moment as he sniffed loudly, then smacked his lips slightly and the sounds emitting from the prince went back to steady breathing and loud snores.

Arthur was really cute when he was asleep.

A stray strand of hair fell across Arthur's forehead. Merlin longed for the strength to push the blonde lock back into its place, but the weight of being awake for even five minutes weighed on the warlock. Merlin felt his strength sapping and his eyelids growing heavy. The manservant desperately fought it, but weariness dragged him down into sleep.

Arthur dreamed.

Of course, it was a fact that everyone dreamed, but the prince had never retained the memories for long.

But this time was different. He remembered.

The prince dreamed of someone he'd never dreamed about before.

Merlin.

Once, the manservant sat in a field of tall, green, dewy grass, watching the stars fade from the sky as the sun rose in the east.

In another, Merlin kissed Arthur's forehead, and then planted a kiss right on the prince's mouth. The manservant had gone red to the tips of his large ears and had rushed away.

Arthur was desperate to stop him, but never could. The dreams froze him in place. But that was okay, normally. As long as the prince could see his dark-haired manservant, his heart rate would quit racing so badly and the fear rising in his throat to choke him would allow itself to be swallowed.

Back in the here and now, Arthur opened his eyes very slowly.

A third dream, one of him and Merlin holding hands whilst they watched a fire, had just ended abruptly. What had woken the young prince?

Arthur inhaled deeply and sat up. He was curious to why he hadn't fallen off the stool in his sleep, though grateful.

Arthur looked down at his sick manservant and was surprised when clear blue eyes blinked up at him. A grin spread across the prince's face.

"Hey, sleepy head," he murmured.

Merlin seemed incapable of replying, but the ghost of a smile danced across his pink lips.

Arthur rubbed his forefinger in soothing circles on the servant's right hand as he winced from pain. Possibly his headaches had come back, or he just hurt.

"Shh," Arthur said softly as Merlin opened his mouth and tried to speak, followed by a short cringe of pain. "No words. Rest and get your strength back. Plenty of time for speech then,"

Merlin shut his mouth and stared at the blonde prince.

_Not such a prat right now, _Merlin thought. _He's actually being sweet._

Arthur smiled and squeezed his servant's hand gently. "_Rest, Mer_lin." He said teasingly.

Merlin's eyelids grew heavy once again.

Right before the servant fell into sleep, he heard Arthur say three words quietly to him.

_**A/N: Very fluffy chapter. Should I continue? Next chapter Merlin would be able to speak! More angst and cuteness to come. :) Also, thank you for all of the reviews! I don't believe I've gotten so many reviews for a story before. I'm glad you like it! :) **_


	4. Chapter 4

Merlin woke to sunlight. Sunlight turned the insides of his eyelids orange. The warlock's eyelids fluttered open and he sucked in a deep breath. Hmm, there wasn't so much a weight on his chest as there had been for the last few days. Maybe he could speak…

Merlin turned his head and his heart sank. Arthur was no longer standing vigil by Merlin's side. Not that he needed to. Arthur was a prince after all, and Merlin was a simple servant…

Merlin felt a tingling in his hand and he looked down at it. He seemed to be better. He could make small movements without stabs of pain shooting through him. Merlin's hand was encased in a thin layer of gold.

_Magic, _the young servant thought. _Oh, God, if Arthur saw it – _

Merlin's thought was cut off as the door creaked open. Merlin shoved his hand under the thick sheet he was lying under and gave a soft groan, his blue eyes closing momentarily.

_Note to self: No quick movements. _

Fortunately, Gaius was the person who had entered the room. Merlin released the breath he realized he had been holding.

If it had been anyone else – Morgana, Arthur, Uther, even Gwen – he would've been in trouble.

"How are you feeling?" Gaius asked, pulling up a chair at the warlock's side.

Merlin opened his mouth to reply and was surprised when words came out.

"Better." The single word sounded scratchy and rough, but hey, it was something.

A big grin spread across the old physician's face. "Good to see you talk."

Merlin returned the smile. It was strange how much energy speaking a single word took out of him.

Gaius handed Merlin a small bottle full of a strange blue liquid.

"Sleeping draft. Take it when you are ready to sleep. It'll help you recover," Gaius patted Merlin's hand and rose from the chair. The old physician left the room quietly.

The young warlock sighed and settled down in his blankets, staring at the bottle. Should he take it, or wait for Arthur to return? He needed to talk to Arthur.

A burning in Merlin's chest had begun, something that was currently pleasant but threatened to become painful with each breath Merlin took. The servant knew he needed rest soon.

Merlin's eyelids grew heavy, just as something – no, some_one _settled down in the chair that Gaius had vacated.

"Hello, _Mer_lin." A familiar voice teased. Merlin felt a smile spread across his face, a big, stupid smile.

"Gaius told me you are capable of speaking now, but he also said you were quite tired."

Merlin nodded.

"Can you say something to me? It's been forever since I've heard your voice."

Merlin laughed silently.

"You missed my voice?" he croaked. "I thought there'd never be a day I heard that sentence,"

Arthur laughed and gave a brilliant smile that made Merlin's heart flutter.

"Am I delirious?" Merlin asked. "Because I don't think you've ever been this kind to me."

Arthur sighed. "Merlin, you never thought maybe there was a reason I was mean to you?"

The servant shook his head, sending stabs of pain through his brain. He winced. Arthur took Merlin's hand gently.

"I'll tell you when you're better. No reason for you to have to deal with it now."

Merlin sighed. He quite liked Arthur taking his hand, but he didn't like Arthur not telling him something.

But Merlin did not want Arthur to leave, so instead he asked, "What were you singing me?"

Arthur paused, as if confused, and then grinned.

"It's nothing, just a lullaby my father sung to me as a child."

Merlin smiled softly. "Do you think you could sing it again?"

Arthur hit his servant's shoulder gently. "You really _are _a girl, _Mer_lin."

But the prince began to hum the tune softly under his breath, and Merlin closed his eyes, letting the music float him along the sea of gray.

_**A/N: I'm not so sure about this chapter, so feedback is loved. In fact, feedback is ALWAYS loved! :) If you guys like this chapter I'll continue. I wrote this out of a spurt of pure writing passion so, yeah… Anyway, thanks!**_


	5. Chapter 5

_**A/N: So, I would like to warn you that Merlin is not going to get better in this chapter. In fact, he is going to get much worse. **_

Arthur paced the corridors that lead to his chambers pensively.

_Is Merlin alright? _The prince thought.

That morning, Arthur had gone to check on his sick manservant and had found him shuddering violently, sweating like a hog. The same boy who had hours before been sitting up and speaking.

Arthur had immediately rushed to fetch Gaius to examine the servant.

Gaius had been examining Merlin for at least an hour now. That past hour had been the most excruciatingly angst-filled hour of the future king's life.

Arthur was just walking past his bedroom doors when Gaius pulled them open, his medical kit tucked under his arm. Arthur immediately hurried toward the old physician.

"Gaius. Will Merlin be okay?" the prince asked, desperation creeping into his voice.

Gaius's expression was solemn. "For now. I fear that Merlin's fever has become far worse than we thought,"

Arthur's heart sank. "Can I see him?"

The old court physician nodded. "Just be gentle, Arthur."

The prince nodded and entered his room as Gaius walked away, back to his chambers to find a cure for the awful fever.

Arthur pulled up a chair next to his manservant. Merlin was not shuddering as badly as that morning, but he still gave small shivers. The warlock's face was pasty and sweat dripped down his brow.

"Hey," Arthur said gently, like he was speaking to a wounded animal. Merlin opened his mouth to reply and flinched. Arthur took his servant's hand.

"Shh," he murmured carefully. The warlock shut his mouth and stared up at the prince.

_Red tunic today, _Merlin thought. _I wish he'd wear blue more often. Brings out his eyes._

Arthur sighed and pushed his face into his large, tanned hands.

"This is all my fault," he said, the sound muffled. Merlin made a small sound and patted Arthur's hand. "It is. I should've heard those damned bandits in the woods."

Arthur shut his eyes, images of Merlin throwing himself in front of the prince to save him from the poisoned blade flashing on the backs of his eyelids.

"No," Merlin managed to say, the word croaky. "Not your fault."

Arthur gave his servant a sad smile. "But it is. I'm the future king. I should be able to stop these things from happening,"

Merlin pulled Arthur's hands away from his face and stared deep into his blue eyes.

"Not. Your. Fault." Merlin croaked.

Arthur smiled very, very solemnly and brushed the warlock's dark curls out of his eyes. There was a pause.

"Rest. You need it to get better." Arthur said.

"Not your fault," Merlin said.

Arthur poured the sleeping draft into Merlin's mouth.

"Shh," he said, and began humming the lullaby he'd been sung as a child as Merlin began to drift off.

_**A/N: This is another chapter I'm not so sure about, so remember that feedback is always loved! :) Also, thank you for all of the reviews. I've never gotten so many on a story before, so thank you so very much. :)**_


	6. Chapter 6

It was a few days after that incident that started to scare Arthur. Merlin wasn't shuddering violently but his skin was as pale as fresh snow, his blue eyes shut, and shivering nonstop.

The young prince hadn't left his servant's side, even to sleep or eat.

King Uther had stopped by, expressing how ridiculous he thought it was that his son cared so much for a servant.

"He is a servant, a loyal one at that. I know that once he passes he will be hard to replace." The King had said.

_Replace?_ Arthur had thought in disgust. _You can't replace Merlin. However awful of a servant he is, he's a good friend._

Gaius had checked on Merlin earlier, and his expression had grown solemn. The dying light and the shadows had made the old physician look nothing less than terrifying.

"He is dying, sire," Gaius had said, his medical kit clutched to his chest. "Arthur, if Merlin survives the night, will be in great pain tomorrow. I fear I may not be able to finish the remedy in time."

Arthur had swallowed hard in fear and had nodded. "Give us a bit of time alone, will you?"

The court physician had nodded and bowed respectfully, exiting the room and letting the door swing shut softly behind him.

And that was how the crowned prince of Camelot had come to be here, sitting by the side of his own bed that was occupied by his servant, his fingers twined with Merlin's, the fire crackling in the fireplace, casting dancing shadows around the room.

Merlin was being fidgety in his sleep, shifting his position frequently, occasionally murmuring words under his breath that did not sound like English. Merlin's eyelids were fluttery, like he was stuck in between the harsh real world and the bliss of the dream world.

Arthur wanted so desperately to wake his young servant, to speak to him, but was afraid that he'd hurt Merlin in the process or deprive him of valuable sleep.

Finally, Arthur got up the courage he was so famous for and gently shook Merlin's right shoulder. The warlock's blue eyes shot open, and he turned his head towards Arthur with a wince.

"I worse," Merlin said. Arthur felt like his heart was breaking.

The servant was not able to easily use complete sentences now. It was astounding if he could even say a word.

"Yes, you are, Merlin." Arthur replied with sad blue eyes.

"Time to say goodbye?" Merlin croaked.

"No," Arthur said immediately with a surprising firmness. "Don't say goodbye yet. There's still time to save you."

Merlin gave what Arthur thought was supposed to be a laugh, but all the warlock really did was cringe. Arthur grasped at Merlin's fingers.

"Don't give up hope yet."

The warlock sighed. "You don't give up hope, I don't give up hope." It was the closest thing to a full and proper sentence the servant had said in three days.

Merlin exhaled slowly and let his eyes fall shut again. He really needed his sleep now to gain back his strength. He could hardly stay awake for more than five minutes at a time.

Arthur brushed away the raven curls that had fallen into the boy's eyes. "Get some rest, Merlin."

Arthur stood and carefully disentangled his fingers with his servant's as he heard the door creak open. He brushed the tears that had dripped down his face off of his cheeks and turned to greet whoever had walked in on the scene.

"Gaius," Arthur said in surprise, sure it had been his father or Guinevere.

"Sire, there is something I'd wish to discuss with you," Gaius said.

"What is it, Gaius?" Arthur asked tiredly.

"I need a strong pair of legs to find a very rare and extraordinary herb that may save Merlin."

Hope, for the first time in days, dared to creep into the young prince's chest.

"I'll do it," he said immediately. "Though I'm not sure how Father will react."

Gaius gave a ghost of a smile. "I'll take care of him. Be ready by first light."

_**A/N: Hehehe, I feel like a cliffhanger villain. :)**_ _**Thank you for all of the wonderful and helpful reviews! :) This was a bit of a long chapter for me, honestly. I try my hardest to write long ones for you but please remember I'm still developing as a writer. Also, I just finished watching all of the five seasons of Merlin and…. Let's just say I am feeling quite sad. :( Anyway, I'd love to hear, or rather read, your reactions to this chapter. Should I continue? **_


	7. Chapter 7

Arthur rode on his horse through the quiet forest, the image of the herb Gaius had told him to retrieve burned into his mind.

Occasionally, a bird chirped and flew off of a branch, but that was the only real sound except for the crunching of the leaves under the horse's hooves and the wind blowing through the trees.

All seemed well and peaceful as the crowned prince rode off in search of a mysterious plant Gaius had said would be the savior of his manservant.

A flash of long black hair in the trees surprised Arthur. But then it disappeared without a trace.

_Hmmm, _Arthur thought.

Suddenly, a flashback hit the prince so suddenly that he almost fell off of his horse.

*Beginning of Flashback*

_Arthur crunched through the woods, his gloved hand resting on the handle of his sword. He and Merlin, Gwaine, Percival, and Elyan were on a hunting trip, and they had found a trail of small deer tracks. _

_Arthur could sense that they were close when all of a sudden there was scuffling behind him and a loud _thud _followed by an _OOF!

_The crowned prince whirled around to find his manservant pushing himself off of the forest floor, the crossbow he had been carrying underneath him. _

_Arthur rolled his eyes. _

"Mer_lin!" he said, flinging his hands in the air. _

_The knights looked amused and were not doing the best at hiding it. _

_That was when the arrow struck Elyan in the thigh, and he yowled in pain and surprise as he fell. _

"_Bandits!" Arthur yelled, drawing his sword. _

_Merlin immediately rose to his feet and picked up the crossbow, rushing to Arthur's side. _

_The prince slashed away at the bandits, causing many to fall. _

_But a crafty one hid behind a huge oak, a throwing knife clutched in his grimy hand. He whispered an incantation and his eyes flashed gold, and poison began to sizzle on the blade. The bandit grinned, showing black teeth, and stepped out from behind the tree. _

"_Goodbye Arthur, prince of Camelot," the bandit yelled, throwing the knife at Arthur. _

_The prince was completely unprepared, and the knife was moving at a very high speed. _

_Time seemed to slow around him as Arthur watched the blade fly towards him, aiming for a death blow to the heart._

_Then a dark shape hurtled in front of him and adsorbed the blow, falling heavily to the forest floor. _

_Percival stabbed the bandit who had thrown the knife through the back, ending the fight. _

_Arthur stood there, suspended in surprise for a few moments. Then he shook his head and broke out of his surprised stupor and crouched next to whoever had saved his life. _

_The crowned prince was surprised when Merlin, clutching at his torso, stared back, his blue eyes dark with pain. _

_Blood began seeping from beneath his fingers. The dark liquid turned his red neckerchief a blackish hue. _

"_Oh my God…" Arthur said, unsure of what to do. _

_Gwaine, Percival, and Elyan had just made their way over, the third of the trio held up by the first two. _

"_We have to get him to Gaius," Gwaine said, his face pale in surprise, anger, and fear. Arthur was pretty sure his face looked the same. _

_The prince picked up his manservant and eased him onto his horse and the others mounted theirs. _

_And the group rode off to the walls of Camelot. _

*End of Flashback*

A woman stepped out of the trees as Arthur broke out of the memory. She was beautiful, with long black hair pulled back and lovely blue eyes, dressed in a nice red dress and a blue cloak.

But she was disturbingly familiar.

"Arthur Pendragon," the woman said. It took a moment for the prince to place this woman.

"Nimueh," he said, drawing his sword.

"Oh, there'll be no need for that," she tutted. Nimueh's eyes flashed gold and the trusty sword flew from Arthur's grasp.

"What do you want?" Arthur growled. "Why did you show me that memory?"

"Oh, so many questions so early in the conversation," Nimueh said. "I am not here to harm, this time. Only to warn. Your _manservant_," Nimueh took a moment to smile, as if she knew Merlin was far more than that, "has not much longer to live. The lovely little bandit who threw the blade that was meant for you unfortunately cast a powerful spell upon the blade. You must find the herb quickly, within two days, or I fear Merlin will be dead before you reach him. He is quite lucky to have held out this long."

Arthur said nothing.

"Young prince, I am truly only here to warn. I am but only an image. Merlin killed me a few months back. But know this: someone is trying to warn you to find it quickly."

Gaius sat next to Merlin, his expression sad. He knew that Merlin was desperately trying to heal himself by the spells he was murmuring nonstop, now.

"Arthur," the warlock said, his expression strained. "Listen to her, Arthur!" Gaius frowned.

"Listen to whom, Merlin?" he whispered, knowing he would not receive an answer.

Arthur got a strange sense that Nimueh was speaking the truth. He dismounted and reached out a hand to touch the enchantress, and his gloved hand went through her. Arthur jumped back in fright. Nimueh smirked.

"Ah, now you see that I speak the truth. Two days' time, young Pendragon, or your servant dies." With that, the sorceress disappeared, leaving Arthur alone in the forest with a horse and a creeping sense of dread.

_**A/N: I know this was quick, I actually wrote this in about twenty minutes, but I was overwhelmed by a crazy writing passion and this was the result. I am actually quite proud of it, if I do say so myself. Should I continue? Sorry for the cliffhanger, by the way. :D I is a cliffhanger villain! Also, you are welcome for a longer chapter. :) **_


	8. Chapter 8

Arthur didn't realise how badly he was shaking until he felt his back slide down the rough trunk of a nearby tree and his knees crumple under him.

_A due date. The absolute last thing I need,_ Arthur thought. _Why would someone want to warn me, anyway? Not many other people except for Gaius, Hunith and I know about Merlin's sickness, and it would take a powerful sorcerer to send that sort of apparition._

Arthur shook his head, sending blonde locks flying, to clear it. He had no answers to those questions. No point in pondering them. The sooner he found this herb to cure Merlin, the better.

_Deep in the forest, you'll find a small cave made of limestone. Inside of this cave you'll find a small silver flower with arrowhead-like leaves. They are called Sanarepan. You will need to collect three of these herbs to bring back to me so we have a chance of saving Merlin._ Arthur remembered his conversation with Gaius the morning he'd left in search for the mysterious plant well.

Back in the here and now, the crowned prince of Camelot tied his horse to a tree outside of the described cave and grabbed his pack. Arthur saw a bush of berries and rolled one between his forefinger and thumb. _Gaiaberries_, Arthur thought, a candle lighting in his head.

He crushed up the foul-smelling berries and rubbed them on his pale face. _Just in case of Wildren. This cave looks a bit similar to the tunnels they inhabit. Even if there are none, no harm done if I take this precaution._

Arthur sighed, gathering up his courage, and lit a torch, the flint sparking. The flammable end of the torch burst into orange flame. Then the prince inhaled deeply, shoved down the nausea rising in his throat, and stepped into the cave.

The crowned prince was very thankful he'd had the foresight to bring a torch. The cave was pitch black without the illuminating flames, and, really, the drip of water hitting Arthur's shoulder would've seemed a lot creepier if he hadn't shone the torch light up to see that the drip had come from wet stalactites.

Arthur's footsteps echoed hollowly on the grey stone walls.

It was strange, adventuring out for something all on his own. The prince missed the clumsiness and the constant talking of his manservant, though he'd never admit it aloud. He missed the way Merlin would grin and go red to the tips of his protruding ears when he got embarrassed. He missed the idiotic, though adorable, smile the servant would get on his face when they won a battle or he beat the prince at a game at the tavern.

Altogether, Arthur really just missed Merlin.

The prince was so deep in reminiscence that he slammed into a stone wall with a little grunt of surprise. He rubbed the tip of his nose angrily and grunted in frustration.

_Where can these darned flowers be?_

It was then, when Arthur stepped back from the moist wall, that he saw them, illuminating softly in the darkness.

Lovely small silvery flowers with arrowhead-like leaves.

A huge grin spread across Arthur face as he bent down and plucked up a few.

_Thank the gods,_ he thought.

The prince quickly and carefully put the flowers in a small travelling pouch and exited the cave as quickly as possible. In all honesty, Arthur liked the dark, damp, dank cave less than probably everyone else in the world.

The prince was still grinning about the success of finding his flowers that he didn't notice that the brown mare he'd rode out on was missing from the tree Arthur had tied her to.

Merlin tensed in his sleeping, fevered state, an expression of pure panic rushing across his sweaty, pale face. "No, Arthur, no!"

It was only when the prince pocketed the pouch and glanced up that he realised this.

_Oh, crap,_ Arthur thought, drawing his sword_. I knew it was all too easy._

He heard scuffling in the trees and held perfectly still, hoping whoever, or whatever was in those trees left him alone so he could just get back to Camelot and heal his friend.

But the prince knew that it was unlikely.

And he was correct, for only a few moments later a Wildren came bursting through the trees, from the direction of the cave, sniffing around and heading straight for Arthur.

_**A/N: When I wrote my first draft of this, I honestly didn't like it. Plus, in all honesty, nothing could really top my last chapter. It's definitely one I'm super proud of. :) But now that I've gone over it a few times I'm truly pretty proud of it.'Sanarepan' is a word I came up with. 'Sanare' means 'to heal' and 'pan' means 'all'. Reviews are greatly appreciated! Sorry for leaving you on a cliffhanger again, but remember it's my job! I'm a cliffhanger villain. :D**_


	9. Chapter 9

Arthur went completely still, his toned body rigid with fear. He closed his blue eyes, his thoughts still swirling like thunderclouds before a storm.

_Dear God, I don't want to be killed by a Wildren. _

The prince opened an eye slightly as he felt the warm, moist breath of the Wildren on his face, an enormous tongue swiping saliva onto his face. Arthur closed the eye immediately and reflectively cringed.

Then he remembered.

_Thank the gods; I remembered to put on the gaiaberries. _

The Wildren made a short grunting noise and shuffled away, its footsteps loud on the fresh green grass and the wet earth. The Wildren thundered back into its cave.

Arthur released the breath he realized he'd been holding. _That's right, big brave prince, no being eaten by Wildren until you get the herbs back to Gaius, _Arthur thought.

He gathered himself back together and sighed, rubbing the Wildren spit off of his face.

And then he broke into a run and didn't stop until he reached the gates of Camelot.

A million thoughts ran through Arthur's mind as he rushed back to Camelot. _Is Merlin still alive? It's only been about a day… Was Gaius really able to restrain Father? Has Father ordered Gaius to leave Merlin to die? _All of them were not good. So the young prince pushed them from his mind, knowing he'd find out soon enough.

When Arthur finally reached Camelot, it was dark. The entrance to the great kingdom was flanked by guards.

_Leon. _Arthur recognized one of the knights easily. And he sighed, knowing what was sure to come.

Bells clanged once the guards saw the blonde prince, the swords they drew from their sheaths gleaming in the moonlight.

Arthur sighed again, slowing his run to a jog.

How long _had _he been running? Without a horse, which was sure to have been eaten by the Wildren, it took maybe four hours to reach the part of the wood that housed the cave.

Arthur slowed his pace until he was standing only feet from his loyal knights.

With a sad look on his face, Leon sheathed his sword as Arthur dropped the sword he had.

"Prince Arthur of Camelot, you are under arrest."

Merlin's breathing was laboured. He was close to death, and his father figure, the court physician of Camelot, knew it.

Gaius sat at the boy's side, holding a cold cloth that did little to Merlin's forehead. Gaius knew Merlin had only hours left.

_Where is Arthur? _The old physician thought. _I supposed he should've returned by now. _

It was with that thought that the huge wooden doors burst open, disturbing the silence that had settled over the large room. Merlin cringed and made a small, unappreciative noise.

King Uther stood in the doorway, his son at his side. But something was wrong. Arthur hands seemed to be tied behind his back, guards flanked either side of him, and he was glaring at his father with a look no less of hatred.

"Gaius," the king acknowledged, his voice ringing in the cold, large room.

Once Arthur had seen his servant, he'd frozen, his blue eyes wide in what could only be described as absolute and pure _terror. _Even across the room, Gaius knew that the king, guards, and prince could hear how laboured Merlin's breathing was, how pale his pallor was, and how the warlock was fighting for every breath.

All of the colour in Arthur's cheeks had drained. The crowned prince looked like he'd been hit in the gut.

"Go and say goodbye, Arthur," Uther said, nodding at the guards to cut the prince's restraints. Arthur rubbed his wrists, throwing a glare in the direction of his father. Uther ignored it.

Arthur walked into his chambers, and the old court physician rose from the chair and stood behind it as the prince made his way towards it.

"You are very lucky to have a king and a father who will let you see your servant before he passes on, and before the king puts you in the stocks for disobeying his orders." Uther said, folding his arms over his chest, an air of superiority in his voice.

Arthur, his back turned to Uther, rolled his eyes. But he murmured, "Yes, I suppose I am."

The flash of triumph that crossed the king's face made anger flare in Gaius's chest.

The crowned prince took a few more steps before sinking into the chair Gaius had vacated. His tan hand found its way to Merlin's dark curls and his other grasped desperately onto the servant's, like he was afraid he'd slip away if he didn't cling on.

As soon as Arthur touched Merlin's head, the servant released a sigh and leaned into Arthur's touch.

The old physician felt his heart crack as he saw a tear slip down the prince's face.

Arthur wiped the tear away and squeezed Merlin's hand, knowing he wouldn't have long to say goodbye. King Uther was an impatient man.

Arthur disentangled his hand from Merlin's fingers and hair reluctantly, murmuring, "Goodbye."

Then Merlin whimpered. It was the most horrid, pitiful sound, like a kicked puppy. The old physician saw more tears find their way down Arthur's cheeks.

Somehow, Arthur found the strength to stand. He wiped the tears from his cheeks and glanced once more at his manservant, his blue eyes sad and afraid.

Gaius had walked around the chair to stand in front of the prince, consoling him with a hug.

He felt the prince slide something into Gaius's robe pocket. The old man raised his eyebrows but said nothing. Arthur shot him a ferociously protective glance. Gaius blinked in surprise at the intensity, but the boy had already turned and walked back to his father, who immediately ordered the guards to take him to the dungeons.

And the prince went willingly.

Once the king and the guards were gone, Gaius reached into his pocket and took out the pouch Arthur had slipped into his pocket. He released the drawstring and a huge grin crossed him face.

_He got them. The Sanarepan. _

And the old man rushed to his chambers to begin the concoction.

_**A/N: So, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! This is a chapter I'm not so sure about, so remember that feedback is loved! I'm sorry for the wait between the chapters; I don't always have time to write. Should I continue? I'd love to hear your feedback! :) **_


	10. Chapter 10

Arthur snuck out of the cells that night.

Reading this, you probably think, _"Wow, that was stupid,"_ but the young prince of Camelot knew his father wouldn't execute him if he found that his son had escaped. Arthur was Uther's only son and heir, and the king had lost his wife when his son had been born. And Arthur was much cleverer than most people gave him credit for.

Of course, Guinevere and Morgana were more than helpful.

After visiting their sick friend, the girls had immediately rushed to the cells to visit Arthur.

And that was when they hatched a plan.

Since Gwen and Morgana were not the ones locked in a dank cell, they were to do most of the work, but Arthur was the one who initially had the idea.

That night, when the moon was high in the night sky, the girls placed a smoldering herb in the air vents that quickly rendered the guards unconscious.

The girls returned to the cell once that was done, wisely covering their noses and mouths with the sleeves of their dresses.

With a sly grin, Morgana took the ring of keys from a sleeping knight.

"Quickly, brother," Morgana said, unlocking the door of the cell with a rusty key. "We have only hours before they rise from their slumber."

So, with that, the prince, ward, and servant left the scene of sleeping knights (Leon was actually _cuddling_ a barrel that had been knocked over when a fellow knight had fallen off of his stool) and quickly made their way up the staircases.

Morgana provided Arthur with a blue cloak so that he could hide his face should they run across any more guards. Which was good, because they had to pass some guards to get into Arthur's chambers.

"No one may pass without permission," a guard grunted.

Morgana, a wonderful actress, looked quite offended. "Ivan, how very rude of you! This is a healer from a far off land who says he may be able to help Merlin."

"Why doesn't he show his face?" Ivan asked gruffly. Morgana stared at Ivan as if he were an idiot.

"Ivan," she whispered accusingly. "It is part of his religion that his face may not be shown to anyone but his family and close friends. I am surprised at you."

Ivan went red. "Sorry ma'am, sir," he said, opening the doors widely and granting them access.

Morgana gave him an approving smile. "Thank you, Ivan."

Ivan nodded, "Ma'am," before shutting the door behind him, knowing that healer's work was only for the privileged eyes.

Gaius looked up from where he was grinding silver herbs on the prince's table in surprise. Arthur pushed his hood back, and the old man grunted in disapproval.

"Morgana, Gwen, that was extremely stupid," Gaius tutted. But the old physician allowed Arthur to sit down next to the prone form of his servant.

Arthur glanced at Merlin with complete fear and utter in his eyes.

The boy was no longer breathing sharply, in fact you could no longer hear the breaths he was taking; you could merely see the faint rise and fall of his chest.

And somehow scared the prince even more.

Arthur looked up at Gaius, complete desperation filling his deep blue eyes.

"You got the Sanarepan flowers, yes?" Arthur asked, linking his fingers with Merlin's limp ones.

Gaius nodded. "I did. And I thank you. But this concoction is going to take time, though not much longer."

Arthur nodded. "Don't let me keep you waiting."

So the old man went back to working on the cure.

Gwen cleared her throat. "Morgana and I are going to wait by the cells and keep people out for as long as we can. One of us will come up to fetch Arthur if trouble arises."

Arthur smiled his thanks as Gwen curtsied and hurried out of the room, Morgana on her heels.

And so, left alone, the two men sat like that, Arthur stroking Merlin's hair and humming as the boy occasionally sighed contentedly in his sleep and Gaius grinded herbs and measured different liquids, following directions out of a book in a language that the prince was incapable of reading.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, the physician help up a vial of shimmery silver liquid and checked it with the drawing in the book.

"Done," Gaius said, swallowing hard. He carefully made his way over to the side of the bed and pressed the lip of the glass tube to Merlin's pale pink lips and poured the concoction down his throat.

"Swallow, my boy," the old man whispered, placing the now-empty vial on the nightstand.

And the warlock did just that.

Suddenly, Merlin shuddered from head to foot and his grasp on Arthur's fingers tightened. A look of great discomfort crossed his features before the hand went slack and the boy went absolutely still.

Arthur backed away from the warlock in surprise.

"Gaius?" The future king barely whispered.

The old physician took Merlin's pulse and his expression darkened. He turned to the prince, his eyes older and sadder than Arthur had ever seen them.

"His heart has stopped, sire."

_**A/N: Oh my God, I am mean to you people. Um, more is to come, so keep your eyes peeled for the next chapter! Also, please remember that feedback is always loved!**_


	11. Chapter 11

He felt like he was falling.

It was strange though. He was surrounded by darkness, yet a single, tiny light grew larger as he moved towards it.

No, he was not falling.

He was flying.

Huge, white, feathery wings spread from Merlin's back, hoisting him up in the black sky and moving him towards the mesmerising golden light that flickered only a few meters away.

That was when the warlock began to hear the sounds of other pairs of flapping wings.

He glanced over, not in the least bit surprised to see the slightly ecstatic, heart-shaped face of a young girl with long curly blonde hair. She was dressed in a beautiful gossamer white gown that flew gracefully behind her.

The girl's excited voice reverberated several times as she spoke to Merlin, the huge, shimmery white wings protruding from her small, skinny form catching the golden light that loomed not so far away.

"Isn't this great? Mother said that I'd meet brother here!" The girl grinned before zooming away, doing a backflip with her wings in the dark sky before disappearing into the light.

A sound, a teeny sound that just barely edged onto Merlin's conscience, happened. But it was quickly replaced by the cries of glee as the other winged people around the warlock began to fly happily into the light, disappearing without a trace as they did so.

An old, wizened man, his youth and health returning to him as he neared the light.

A small brunette girl, who could be no older than three, flew towards the brightness, her beautiful dark complexion returning from the sickly pale one she had sported only moments ago as the lovely light drew her nearer.

Hoards more people flew into the gold light, shrieking with delight, so Merlin decided he might as well see what was so wondrous about it. He allowed his wings to carry him closer, and gasped at what he saw.

Gates were now visible to the young warlock, tall and golden and beautiful and standing wide open. And in the middle of the gates, waiting to invite him in, was _Will_.

The boy was still wearing what Merlin had last seen him in the terrible day Will had saved Arthur's life and died as a result.

His brown hair was as ruffled as it had ever been on one of the warlock's and his best friend's misadventures in Ealdor. An enormous grin was set upon Will's face.

Merlin frowned. But Will was dead. Merlin had seen the arrow enter the side of his best friend's torso, his breath stop puffing into the air, his heartbeat slow to nothingness. How on Earth–

_Oh._ The realisation hit Merlin with a shock. _I'm not on Earth._

Merlin hadn't questioned the wings, or the silvery tunic and trousers and neckerchief he seemed to be wearing. But Will, standing at the pearly gates?

"I'm _dead_?" Merlin whispered.

The smile, so warm and inviting, melted from Will's face. He simply nodded.

"Oh my God, I'm _dead_." The warlock's wings felt as if they were weighed down with chains.

That strange sound edged further onto Merlin's consciousness, a sound the boy recognised began to become relevant. But Merlin pushed it away. He had to deal with the situation at hand.

It became harder for Merlin to beat the soft, feathery wings that kept him aloft.

Will, white wings unfurling from his back, stretched out a hand.

Merlin grasped his friend's hand desperately, drawing in a sharp intake of breath when the pale flesh dissolved beneath his fingertips like mist and the sound edged farther onto his consciousness.

_Merlin._ Someone was saying his name, their voice broken with fear and pain and loss.

_Arthur,_ the young warlock thought, placing the voice.

And then Merlin was falling back into darkness, his wings falling apart in feathery clumps.

Arthur sat by his bed, Merlin's limp, pale hand clasped between the prince's, staring at his servant in shock.

He barely registered that Morgana and Gwen had thundered into the room, and were now kneeling on the ground, holding each other as their shoulders heaved.

He barely acknowledged the fact that Gaius was sitting at the table, his face in his wrinkly old hands, silently sobbing his eyes out.

No, Arthur did not even know anything was happening except for the one thought that he couldn't get rid of.

_Merlin is dead, Merlin is dead, Merlin is dead._

The prince's mind was reeling with the impossibility.

_Merlin is dead. Merlin is dead. Merlin is dead._

No, it couldn't be possible. Arthur had gotten the antidote, and Gaius had perfectly ground it up and created the potion that was to cure Merlin.

So why weren't Merlin's breaths coming out in those little puffs? Why was his chest completely still?

Arthur let out a horrid, grieving groan that vaguely sounded like Merlin's name.

And then it felt like the dam had broken. Suddenly, Arthur's chest was heaving and it felt like twin rivers were forming on his tan cheeks. Arthur could feel his body going numb; the young prince could hardly feel his toes.

He kept repeating Merlin's name over and over, as if that would cause the boy to open his eyes and give Arthur one of those big, goofy smiles he was known for.

But nothing happened; Merlin remained still and unmoving.

"_No_," Arthur whispered brokenly, placing his face in his hands, Merlin's hand trapped between, because Arthur was so unwilling to let go of his friend.

And then he was sobbing, and there was nothing else.

But then Arthur felt something, a hand ruffling his blonde hair.

"_Go away, Gaius_," Arthur said, not caring how harsh it sounded.

"It's not Gaius, you prat." And then Arthur was pulling his face from his hands, because only one person he knew called him a prat.

Merlin was looking at him, his eyes very blue and open and so wonderfully vibrant with life.

_**A/N: Like I would kill Merlin. I'm not that cruel of a person! He's my favorite character. Um, I am so sorry for the wait between the last chapter and this one. Christmas is growing near, and I am super busy, not to mention horrid writer's block. But, I would like to thank my friend, who has helped me with my writer's block. :) Next chapter will be up soon! Feedback is always loved! **_


	12. Chapter 12

The first thing Arthur did was engulf Merlin in a hug. Even though it was clear the servant was actually alive and Arthur wasn't delusional, due to the shocked gasps that had been uttered from everyone in the room, Arthur needed to be able to feel Merlin. His steady heartbeat, breaths coming out in small puffs, warm skin under the prince's fingertips.

It calmed him, letting Arthur know that Merlin was okay. Merlin was there. Merlin was safe.

Eventually, Arthur released Merlin, who was grinning like an absolute (though admittedly adorable) idiot. Arthur hesitantly returned the grin.

The young prince stayed by his friend's side, hand in hand with the boy, whilst Morgana, Gaius, and Guinevere crowded around Merlin, exclaiming their relief that he was alive. There were many exchanges of hugs, and Gwen even kissed Merlin's cheek in relief. Gaius actually cried a little in in the relief that the boy who was practically his son was alive and breathing.

And Arthur just sat there, a grin set on his tanned face, his eyes only for Merlin.

_Merlin is safe. Merlin is safe. Merlin is safe. _Arthur chanted the words in his head, letting himself relish in the fact that Merlin was _absolutely safe. _It felt as if the weight of the world had been lifted from the future king's shoulders.

Eventually, once everyone was satisfied that Merlin wasn't going to go and die on them again, they sensed Arthur's desire to have a few moments alone with his servant and quietly left.

Once everyone was gone, Merlin sighed deeply and rubbed his face with his free hand, not even bothering to try and free his other from Arthur's tight grip.

Finally, Merlin spoke, "Well, that was tedious." A light chuckle bubbled up from Arthur.

It was then, when Merlin pulled his hand away from his head, that Arthur saw how sleepy and slightly pink from being the centre of attention his servant was.

For some reason, it seemed perfectly natural for Arthur to reach forward and gently ruffle Merlin's raven hair. And it seemed perfectly natural for Merlin to exhale softly and lean into his prince's touch, closing those deep blue eyes.

After a while, when Arthur had begun to believe Merlin had fallen asleep and he carefully stood to leave the boy to his rest, Merlin spoke once again, softly.

"I remember, you know."

Arthur, taken back a bit by surprise, gently sat again, taking Merlin's hand once more. Arthur began rubbing soothing, slow circles on Merlin's knuckles with his thumb.

"You sang to me. A lullaby you were sung as a child."

Arthur smiled softly and nodded.

Merlin opened his blue eyes and seemed to be attempting to sit up, to no avail. Arthur immediately made him lie down again.

"You need your rest," the prince protested.

"No, I need to sit up,"

Arthur sighed and reluctantly pulled his friend into a sitting position.

Content with his position, Merlin began again.

"You said something to me. You said, 'You really don't know why I make fun of you all the time?' And I said no, but then I had to go to sleep again. So my question is this: Why do you make fun of me all the time?"

Merlin was looking paler than usual and sweaty after speaking that string of words. Arthur could only imagine the enormity of strength speaking only a few sentences took from Merlin.

The prince knew his friend needed sleep, and frankly, his stomach was filled with butterflies when Merlin asked the question. He hadn't known that Merlin would retain any memory of anything during the sickness; he hadn't believed that it was really possible at all.

But Merlin deserved answers.

"Because–because I love you." Arthur ducked his head, fearful of rejection, face burning.

The chant in his head was now _stupid stupid stupid. _

But then he felt deft fingers under his chin and he looked up in surprise, blue eyes glistening, in time to see Merlin draw him in.

And then the two were kissing.

Arthur's eyes widened for a moment before he melted into the kiss, into what he'd wanted to do for _years_, his lips moving in sync against Merlin's.

They fit together perfectly, like corresponding puzzle pieces.

Suddenly, the prince felt something flare painfully in his chest.

_Dammit, lungs, why do you need oxygen? _

And the two were forced to draw apart, panting. Merlin had a shy smile set on his pale pink lips, and he lie back down again.

"I believe that answer was sufficient." Merlin said, twining his fingers with Arthur's before his breathing became steady once again.

And oh, yes, it was a _delightful _answer. It had Arthur giddy.

And finally, before Merlin fell asleep, he whispered, "I love you, too."

_**A/N: I hope you enjoyed the final chapter! I know it is fluff filled, please, these characters have been through enough! Let them be happy! :) Please have a merry Christmas and a happy New Year! **_


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